


torn from the story i'm living

by archers_and_spies



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, but wait there's a second chapter with fluff, very angst much sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archers_and_spies/pseuds/archers_and_spies
Summary: Requested on Tumblr (because I have no motivation to write anything if there's no external pressure): Hey, could I request an angsty ClintNat fic please? Where something happens like Nat gets Clint in trouble at work or she does something that seriously hurts him/fucks up his life. She thinks she was doing what’s best for him though. Clint can’t stand to be around her and after so long without him, Nat goes to him and says she did it because she loves him. Clint says something cruel like ‘please, you don’t even know what love IS’. Nat storms out in tears. I love angst! Thank you so much ❤️
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not gonna lie, I cackled when I first read this because of how angsty it was. I hope this shows that Natasha and Clint are not perfect and they both have their flaws and honestly that’s what’s so captivating about their characters. I don’t own the characters and the title is a lyric from Dynasty. Also, let the record show I very much wanted to use swear words but I live in constant fear that my parents are going to find my tumblr/ao3. The quality of my writing do be going down tho

“ _Japan_?” Natasha asks disbelievingly, running after Clint to keep up with him as he’s leaving the Triskelion. “And you’re seriously considering this?”

“It’s-- it’s more than considering, Tasha, I’m taking it.”

“But this is all so sudden! You don’t seem like a person who’d-- You don’t do well with change, Barton, you know that!”

He turns abruptly to face her. “And who are you to decide who I am, Natasha?” He shakes his head once and resumes walking. “Fury said it’ll pay well.”

“So you’re only doing this for the money?”

“Natasha,” he says exasperatedly, “Do you think I’d have taken this job in the first place, _killing_ people, if I didn’t get paid?”

“This job is practically the same as the one you have right now! What’s the point of relocating?”

“Exactly. It’s the same. I’ll still work for S.H.I.E.L.D., just in a different base. I don’t get why--”

“What about me?” Natasha asks, desperate. “We’re a team, you’re my partner, and now you’re just going to abandon me?”

“I’m not abandoning you! There’s gonna be visits-- it’ll just be like any other mission. Seriously, Tasha, why are you taking this so badly?”

“Because you’re _moving to Japan_!”

He meets her furious eyes, and there’s a bit of sadness in his. “That’s right. I am,” he says, in a tone that makes Nat stop chasing after him. She stands and watches him leave, feeling the gaze of all the other agents around them watching and burning through her.

Clint Barton is not leaving. Not on her watch.

\----

Clint comes home to a hacked laptop and a note beside it.

_Sorry. -N_

\----

“Natasha, what the hell!”

She turns to find Clint waving a crumpled up piece of paper at her. He’s printed out the email she typed and sent-- the email turning down the job.

“What is this? What did you do?” He yells, panic in his voice.

“I think you know,” she says quietly. 

He shakes with rage. “This is illegal. You could get arrested for this. You didn’t-- you don’t have the right.”

“Then go ahead. Sue me,” she says. If he really does, then she’ll know he wasn’t worth all this.

He looks away with disgust in his eyes. “I can’t even look at you.”

\----

Natasha remembers her first solo mission at S.H.I.E.L.D., the one that went terribly wrong, terribly fast. She remembers returning on a quinjet with at least two bullet wounds and one from a knife, and she remembers the look of relief in Clint’s eyes at first, then the horror when he took in her physical state.

She remembers the warmth of his arms when he held her close. When he kissed the top of her blood-matted hair and told her he’d missed her, asked if she was alright.

She doesn’t understand how that same person could be the one in front of her right now, looking at her coldly and devoid of emotion. To be fair, eye contact was already a step-up from two weeks of avoiding her.

“As I was saying,” Coulson continues, a bit intimidated by the way Clint’s staring at Natasha. “It’s a simple mission. Infiltrate the gala, and--” He sighs when it’s evident neither of the two agents are listening to him.

“I have to go,” Clint says, barely audible, and gets up from his chair, leaving the room. Natasha trains her gaze on the metal table so hard she just might bore two holes in it.

When he’s gone, Natasha feels like a kid in the principal’s office with Coulson watching her silently. She hates feeling powerless, or worse, overpowered, and so she leaves as well.

“No one ever listens,” Coulson complains to an empty room.

\----

When he actually opens the door to her knocks, she’s rooted to the floor and grasps for words.

“Um, I wanted to return this.” She holds out his Star Wars shirt she stole a year ago. “Can I come in?”

“The last time you were in here, you hacked my laptop and cost me a job,” he says, but opens the door wider anyway.

She’s only half surprised when she sees empty liquor bottles riddling the floor. “You’ve been drinking.”

“You don’t say.”

She doesn’t know where to start. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.”

“What I did was wrong… but I still stand by it. I don’t think you would’ve fared well in Japan-- your Japanese isn’t even that good.”

“This isn’t how apologies usually go.”

“I did it because I care about you, Clint. It was so sudden and unexpected and… I just wanted you to feel safe.”

“I can take care of myself. Plus, if you really cared about me, you’d have let me make my own decisions. I’m a grown man, for God’s sake.”

“I was only doing what’s best for you--”

“No, you did what you _thought_ was best for me.”

“Clint, I can’t-- I can’t live like this,” she says, her voice breaking. “I miss you. I can’t stand you not being around, I just-- I can’t.” She stops herself from reaching out to touch him.

“You don’t get to say that. Just because you miss me doesn’t mean we can go back to being friends. That’s not how it works, Natasha.”

“I did it because I _love_ you,” she blurts out, and even as the words come out she realises how true they are. “And I think I have, for a long time.”

He ducks his head, avoiding her eyes. 

“Clint. Say something.”

“That’s the thing,” he says slowly. “I thought I loved you too. But turns out, you don’t even know what love _is_.”

And even though Clint is a few steps away from her, she feels herself getting punched, the air knocked out of her. _Love is for children_ , that’s what she’s been telling herself for years, but deep down inside she’s always countered that with _And what’s so bad about being a child?_

She’d thought she didn’t have the capacity to love. Clint Barton came along and proved her wrong.

And now Clint Barton is telling her that she knows nothing about love, that she’s heartless, and cruel, and--

She walks out of the apartment and slams the door before she can throw herself at him with anger. A sob escapes her mouth and she sinks against the wall outside in the hallway, taking a moment to compose herself.

If Clint really thought that about her, maybe he was right. After all, she’d been programmed to seduce and hunt and kill. A Black Widow could never love.

She stands, keeps walking, and gets in the elevator. Its doors close right before Clint’s apartment door opens. 

“Nat, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t-- mean that.”

He stares helplessly at the empty hallway before sighing and closing the door again.

She doesn’t come back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY due to popular request and just because a sad ending doesn't sit right with me I wrote a second chapter!1!!1! I can say with confidence that writing this burned out all my brain cells and I sadly don't have any left :( I would also like to thank chocolate milk and cake for being by my side for the whole like four-hour writing session and I hope y'all enjoy this :)

Clint’s lungs burn as he runs through the Triskelion, being mindful of where he steps and ensuring that his eyes don’t get tricked by the reflections in the glass. He shoulders his way through a crowd of agents dressed in black, mumbling “sorry” and “‘scuse me”s.

“Sir,” he pants when he finally reaches the room where Fury and Coulson are. “Sirs,” he amends. If they’re both here, that means things are not good. 

His two superiors exchange a glance. Clint knows they’re hiding the full extent of how bad it is when Fury simply says, “She lands in about ten minutes.”

The wait is the worst-- it’s always the worst. Clint tries to sit down, even out his breaths, and then the image of Natasha’s face pops back into his brain (if it were ever even gone in the first place) and his heart rate picks up again, and sitting and waiting makes him feel too helpless, so he gets up and paces, much to Fury’s annoyance.

His heart drops out under his stomach when an alert blips on Fury’s tablet. He looks up and says to Coulson, “She’s here.”

They start to leave through the glass door of the room. Clint moves to follow them when Fury half-turns to him.

“I think it’d be best if you didn’t come along, Agent Barton.”

“What?” Clint asks, taken aback. He looks to Coulson, as if hoping for him to vouch for him somehow, but all he does is give him a look of pity and say, “We know how much you care about her. It’s for your own good… Clint.”

He’s so frustrated at how many times he’s heard that phrase-- _it’s for your own good_ \-- in the last two months that he completely ignores Coulson’s use of his first name.

“Sirs, you don’t understand. This is my fault.” 

He knows this for a fact. Him telling her she wasn’t capable of love-- he shudders just thinking about the memory he’s been trying to repress-- and then her immediately going on this obsessive mission spree, it’s too big of a coincidence.

Coulson buries his face in his hand and Fury tells him, “She’ll probably need medical attention.”

“Why did you even call me here if you didn’t want me to see her?”

“You hacked into my tablet to find out when she was back!” says Coulson.

“She’s my partner, I was worried! Plus, it’s not hacking when your password is just super easy to guess. MelindaMay? Really?”

Coulson sputters and Fury rolls his good eye.

“Please. Just let me come with. I know where the quinjets land anyway. It’s not like you can stop me.” He feels like a child trying to reason with grownups who think they know what they’re dealing with.

Fury sighs. “Whatever, Barton.” He walks out of the room, not turning back to see if they follow. Coulson turns to Clint.

“Hey, man, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell Mel--”

“Not the time, Sir,” Clint says before following Fury to the hangar.

\----

When she staggers out of the quinjet, he rushes forward to help her.

“Can-- handle-- myself,” she grits out, but there’s blood mixing with the crimson of her hair aside from at least three gunshot wounds, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been this relieved and scared at the same time before.

“Agent Romanoff,” Fury greets. “May I congratulate you on a mission well done.”

“A mission well done? Are you seeing this?” Clint says, because her wounds aren’t even bandaged up yet and he’s got no idea how she hung on all the way on the quinjet ride.

“We got the intel we needed, and all targets were efficiently eliminated,” Fury says. “It was a successful mission.”

Of course. Of course Fury didn’t come down here himself because he cared about Nat. He only cares about the _mission_ , and Natasha’s just an agent to him, an asset.

Natasha nods in acknowledgement, and Clint barely stops himself from murdering him right there on the spot.

“Get her to the hospital wing,” Coulson says, then turns to leave after Fury.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Clint says, struggling (only a bit, though) under Natasha’s weight.

“I’m okay, Clint,” Natasha says, but goes with him anyway, trying to hide a limp. He’ll have to tell the doctor to check her left leg just in case, and “I’m okay” is such a commonly told lie by the both of them that it doesn’t even strike him as strange that she’s trying to convince him that she’s fine while bleeding out onto the hangar floor.

“Nat.” He stops walking for a while and cups her face. “Natasha. I was so scared.”

Her face scrunches up and she starts crying slow sobs. He doesn’t say anything and just wraps his arms around her-- he knows she secretly likes his hugs especially after hard missions, likes to bury her face into his chest. 

They stay like that for a while, with Clint pretending like there won’t be a tomorrow, like he won’t have enough time to tell her everything he wants to, so just settling with holding her as tightly as he can.

“I’m ruining your shirt,” she mumbles into his body, and when he looks down, the growing red stain reminds him that she still needs to go get fixed up. 

“Why’d I choose to wear white?” He complains half-heartedly.

\----

Clint listens to the steady beeping of the ECG machine, and it drives him towards insanity and tethers him to sanity at the same time. He tells himself, Natasha is here, Natasha is back, she’s alive and safe. An urge to reach for her hand like in those rom-com movies washes over him, and he’s reminded harshly that this is not some story in which a happy ending is guaranteed, this is reality: harsh, cruel reality where things can go wrong when you’re least expecting it.

(He takes her hand anyway.)

“Clint?” She asks groggily.

“Hey.” He bolts upright. “Hey, Nat. Yeah, it’s me.” He strokes her cheek gently, traces one of the fading scars from one of her previous missions, still not fully healed.

She sighs sadly. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t have to be nice. Especially after what I did.”

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He doubts it’ll even matter-- she’s fallen back asleep in mere seconds.

And when he’s here, watching her breathe, there’s really no question that he still loves her, of course he does.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

\----

The day she gets let out of the hospital wing is a happy one. Clint drives her back to her apartment.

“Before I leave,” he starts awkwardly, “just promise me you won’t do that again. Put yourself in danger because of something stupid I did, or said.”

She tilts her head, slightly amused. “Do you know me? Because you know I put myself in danger every day. It’s in the job description.”

He looks down. “I’m sorry. For saying… that. I was drunk and was trying to avoid you, and I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t owe me an apology,” she says, surprising him. “These past two months without you… I realised that there really is no other way, no other word to describe what I feel. For you. And I don’t need you to validate them for me. I love you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He smiles, despite himself. “You know why I was going to take that job?”

“Right. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“No, it’s-- it was because I was falling too. Have been, more and more since the day we met.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “The day I nearly strangled you to death with my bare hands?”

“I was convinced that if I didn’t leave as soon as possible, I’d never be able to detach myself from you, get over you. And you saw right through me.

“The truth is…” he takes her hand. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and I’m so scared of the fact that I can’t stand the thought of losing you. But maybe, if that’s okay with you… I’d like to stop pretending that this--” he motions between them with his free hand-- “is just friendship.”

Her face softens, and she says almost shyly, “You still love me.”

“Never stopped, Tasha,” he says before closing the distance between them and kissing her gently. “Never stopped.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's where the fic was originally posted on Tumblr](https://the-archer-and-the-spy.tumblr.com/post/617262678161965056/hey-could-i-request-an-angsty-clintnat-fic) and [find me on my other platforms here!](https://linktr.ee/karasnecklace)


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